


General Ramblings of One Renowned Captain and Co. (And their Adventures)

by Roxasmunchkin



Series: Salvator Regna [1]
Category: Pirate101 (Video Game), Wizard101 (Video Game)
Genre: Both games kinda cross? are the same?, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Swearing, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Crew™, Trying to make sense of a premise that is open-ended, Unless we're including actual ships..., Will be playing around the Sandbox that is The Sprial™, Wonder how that'll go..., for now?, no ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27783418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roxasmunchkin/pseuds/Roxasmunchkin
Summary: General information and excerpts picked up by the locals. Usually is about how the resident Pirate Captain and the crew have managed to do....something. Changes on the week and place!
Series: Salvator Regna [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032564
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue: Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to showcase background ideas I have for the "main" story (Salvator Regna), that relate to the more Pirate101 shenanigans and the sandbox of a world that is The Spiral. Will cover anything from head cannons galore to potential plots that I want to have within the Salvator Regna 'verse (Henceforth Regnaverse). I'll add endnotes/precursors to a chapter as necessary.

Currently In Progress. Will Edit this shortly, as I need to get all my notes organized.

Alright, Just got my notes together. Apparently I have over 118 pages worth of information pertaining to: ideas, world building, plot points, head cannons, general thoughts, and "log entries" (personal thoughts penned down).

So, this Instead will be a Prologue/warm up to allow me more time to A.) understand AO3's formatting, and B.) Organize and polish up (Slightly) my current work. Currently, this page will serve as a way to inform anyone looking about the up-coming chapters and any potential warnings involved.

**Chapter One: Thoughts from a tired Captain**.

Summary: Tara's journal entries as she gets used to being an actual pirate. Swearing.

**Chapter Two: From One Weary Messenger to Another.**

Summary: The head of the Disciples', Duncan Grimwater, learns some valuable information. Potentially dead character (hinted at).

**Chapter Three: Potential Scene.**

Summary: The grandiose pirate captain Tara and Mage leader Duncan have gone missing. Deacon, Han, and others wonder about how the duo is doing and what caused them to go MIA. Swaps P.O.V., hints at potential character death.

**Chapter Four: Thoughts From a Fox.**

Bonnie reviews her history with one chaotic Captain. Potential Character death, implied suicide (it's complicated 'cause it's not actually suicide but it seems like it)


	2. Chapter One: Thoughts from a tired Captain.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few entries from one soon—to—be Captain Hawkins.

**Journal Entry 1**

> What. In. The. World. Happened!? One moment, I’m fighting against one of the most _powerful_ Diviners around, and next thing I know; I’m on a shitty, wannabe Celestia—based island. Seems like Water Moles are around, friendly too since I’m not dead yet. On another note, my head is **pounding** and I’m trying to find some sense of normality. I think it’s 3 am due to how dark it is (outside of torch light) and the positioning of the moon.
> 
> I Think I’ve got too much spite to not die. That can be challenged later though. I’ve lost my equipment, my backpack, my book, hell, my _English Dictionary_ , and… and my most prized possession. Fuck. I… just.
> 
> I really liked that plushie. That poor plushie has been through hell and back with me. I’m going to try to get some sleep… I’ll deal with the consequences tomorrow.
> 
> ~Tara

[The Handwriting is more of a smeared scrawl, making it harder to decipher. The writing also changes styles, seemingly different forms of written language. There is also a few splotches around the paper, though the ink is relatively unharmed. The signature at the end is wabbly and crooked.]

\---

**Journal Entry 2**

> Okay. Got some sleep, still in pain and emotional, but better than before. Thoughts are going to be stingy for a bit, but I’ve already accepted that. Figured out why my handwriting’s been screwy and all fucked up compared to the neat scribbles from before.
> 
> A.) Too many electrical attacks from a pissed off/provoked diviner thus fucking up my nervous system to high hell. (Though the nice Water Mole healer has assured me that they’ve cured most of the damage) and B.) I’ve been in a coma. Hooray.
> 
> Now that I’m Awake, I’m going to need some therapy (or whatever the Spiral’s equivalent is) and _carefully_ work towards getting mobility back. Unsure of what I’m going to do afterwards, but that can be delt with later. Time to live another day!
> 
> ~Tara

[The handwriting is minimally better than the previous entry. There are no water splotches, but has a few ink smears.]

\---

**Journal Entry 3**

> I have realized something in my endless musings and bouts of boredom. However, I cannot pen them down at the current moment as my writing is slow as shit. Back to thoughts and idylly listening to the Water Mole healer. (I cannot keep focus for long, unless I can do something or it’s important, sadly.)
> 
> Oh, yeah, updates. Slowly regaining mobility and strength. Water Mole Healer’s name is Maru—Ruru. Nice name. The place I’m staying at is an itty—bitty island, that has like, 50 million other tiny islands to form one really big one. Cant wait to fully walk, run, sprint, etc.
> 
> ~Tara.

[The Journal entry has improved handwriting, though still written in multiple languages. Some of the words are smushed together, likely written in excitement.]

\---

**Journal Entry 4**

> Boredddddddooooooommmmm has overtaken my being. Please give it back.

[There is hints of the author, Tara, trying to sign it, but is illegible. It seems to start with a line, but then verried off the page, the page darkened with ink. The next page however, seems unharmed from the excessive amount of ink.]

\---

**Journal Entry 5**

> Looking at my previous entry, it seems that I was medicated to the sky. Whatever that was intended is now lost in translation due to sleep and medication. Anyways, Back to the thought that entry 3 noted.
> 
> I have thoroughly unhinged someone’s physic that controls the “grand design”/“plan of fate” shtick to get me wound up here, in the middle of bum—fuck nowhere. I’m not sure who/what I’ve managed to piss off, but I’m pretty positive that I have a list of enemies somewhere (and growing too!).
> 
> (I am also a sarcastic person, who knew?) Anyways, I’m thinking either I’m glamoured or spelled or _something_ , because the general populous here keep calling me a dude. Not that I mind being called a guy, just a little outa left field. It _is_ better than the alternative which is being recognized as the “Grand Battle Mage of the Worlds”; Dragonflower. I’m not quite sure what to do with this information, but I’ll find something. I know I once made rumors about a thief named “M. Hawkins” for shits and giggles once.
> 
> Hmmm… Something to run with. Cool, got a new name, just need to get used to it for now. Anyways, I can go for short walks and lift minuscule things! Hurray! Oh, Monsieur Healer is calling.
> 
> ~Tara

[The handwriting and written words are easily legible. The lettering is slightly larger than one would expect. The page is nice and crisp with no signs of unintentional warping.]

\---

**Journal Entry 26**

> I. am. Amazed. This place is so pretty! I just! Words cannot describe how pretty, how gorgeous this tropical place really is! My inner Cartographer sings with joy and anticipation. I can finally run around the island like a kid hyped on sugar and coffee. Mmmm… coffee. I miss coffee. I also miss the Turkish—esk coffee that Mirage made. Just, so flavorful and rich and coffeeeeee.
> 
> I’m getting off—track.
> 
> Anyways, this place is amazing! I must explore and map and learn the culture and the people and finally! Something to do! So much to do!
> 
> ~Tara

P.S.: The Moles are calling me “Nimble” Morgan/Hawkins. I have decided to run with and use the name Morgan Hawkins. Healer Maru—Ruru is hiding something, not sure what yet…

[the entries seem to be written by a stable hand for the most part, with a few intermittently squished or unrecognizable words.]

\---

Extra:

More entries still need to be translated. God above, help me. Her writing is atrocious. Christ on a bike Lulu, really?. Must your thoughts be written in _every language known to the Spiral!?_ May something interesting (that's good!) happen. I do not need more of this shit.

[The note is unsigned, but is written in a standard foreign font. The scrap paper seems to be parchment compared to the papyrus that is hastily bound together. The phasing and neat character placement is distinctly different compared to the hasty scrawl the book provides.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing the "Description/flavor text" of the journal entries. Also liked the general feel of the chapters and showing how Tara thinks. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 2: From One Weary Messenger to Another.

Duncan gave a silent, weary sigh only noticeable from his shoulder’s minimal movement. He didn’t feel like hiding it. The Capitals were in absolute chaos that hid behind poor posing and blustering.

After all, the best battle mage had decided to go MIA who was supposedly fighting against “the greatest foe in the Spiral” (The devil incarnate once said). Personally, Duncan digressed. Realizing he was to speak, Duncan pulled away from his thoughts.

“Very well your majesty. I shall return promptly after my business has concluded.” He kept his tone flat, but polite as he bowed. The Queen dismissed him promptly, understanding how busy he was.

The “glorious” spot that Lulu held was an absolute _lie_. Those who actually knew Tara beyond “that one person who saved them/fetched/some reason here.” saw how it _destroyed_ her. Duncan, who for the most part didn’t care about wishing or pointless thoughts, wished that Mellori could’ve been saved.

_(He knew that was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.)_

Slipping through the Door, Duncan made his way to the Haunted Cave within Triton Avenue. Dark, gloomy, cold. Many more disheartening adjectives can describe the place if one asked. He found the house, matching all the others on the cul—de—sac. What was odd, was that there were no lights on. The place usually had a person or two inside, as it was The Disciples’ headquarters.

Shrugging, the necromancer went inside. He didn’t bother to light the oil lamps or spark the lights. After scribbling some semblance of a note/general orders—tasks for the others to find, he headed to the basement. Feeling around, Duncan searched for the loose paneling on the walls. Once found, Duncan muttered the phrase in the harsh Draconian language to grant access. The ward fell and the tall mage slipped through.

It was another door, hidden from the most prying eyes. Like a hidden blade, a key glided into his hand with a smooth flick of his wrist. The heavy metallic key calmed him. The door opened with a smooth turn and the young adult headed into the fallen city.

Dragonspyre was once a grand city. Then, some twit decided to summon the last Fire Titan to “help out”. The ruins of the city proved how well _that_ worked out. The Fire Titan’s army, the Draconian Army, claimed it as their own, and roamed the ruined city. However, historians from afar said, that one single mage mange to restore it’s glory. Mage Morgan Dragonflower had tamed the Titan and managed to sooth the Army’s ire and restored the city to it’s former glory.

_That, is what we call spin._ Duncan softly snorted at the thought. Both Lulu and Mentor had managed to calm the Fire Titan, a large Dragon by the name of Solvus, to stop raining ash, and having the land spout magma and lava every 5 seconds. The rest, however, was through the combined efforts of the Draconian’s, the Drakes, and the Spirits of the Dead.

The tired, worn out mage undid the tight bun his hair was kept in. Carding his hands through his supposedly snow—white locks, as he gave himself a moment to let all the work he completed to visibly affect him.

Even with 10 times the people, the disciples still ran themselves ragged. _How’d she do it? How didn’t she managed to die?_ His dark, rhetorical thoughts reared up again. Suddenly, the messaging system of crystals lit up. It seemed like his alone time was up.

Pushing off the wall he idlily leaned against, Duncan moved back to the hidden door and prepared to direct his team, his friends, once more. Arriving at the main hangout room, Duncan did a mental headcount.

All the core members were accounted for, including himself. Three girls, four guys.

“So” Mindy’s chipper voice broke the quiet. “What are the plans, oh great leader.”

“Ceren, Arthur, your both needed in Mooshu. Ceren, have you completed your training tasks as Life assistant in Unicorn Way?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Ceren’s calming voice held hints of amusement.

“Fair. Suzie and Mindy, I remember that Head wanted you in Triton Avenue and Colossus Boulevard, respectively. Apparently, the student that Ceren helped with is being sent your way.” The diviner and thaumaturge nodded while giving hums of agreement.

“Once your done helping the student, come back here. There should be notices posted on the board for you to help out with. Noland, same thing. As for myself, I’m going to need you, Arthur, Penny, to help me out once your done with whatever the Head has assigned. I have a task from Mirage that requires three of us. If the student is quick enough, if the grapevine is true, then Penny won’t have to wait for long. We only work for several hours here in Ravenwood afterall.”

The group nodded, understanding that Mirage, while better off than before, was still an extremely dangerous place to be in, regardless of groups or going solo. After trading goodbyes and words of luck and swiftness, everyone scattered. Duncan remained behind, making his own preparations for the blistering heat that rivaled Krokatopia and whatever the populous might need.

Penny, as expected, came back first. She wasn’t allowed to do much while being a helper at Ravenwood Academy, much to her chagrin. The more experienced necromancer appraised her outfit and weapon. He sighed, lightly shaking his head, before handing over a better equipment set to the teen. She took it without complaint and left to go change. As she changed, Duncan went to go make snacks, light but filling.

Arthur arrived back, though Ceren wasn’t with him. The blond diviner explained that Ceren was to escort a well—known artisan around Mooshu and promised to pay well for their troubles. Duncan acquiesced. Finding Gold was hard enough as is, but temporarily loosing their only Theurgist would pay wonders in the long run. Though, like Penny, Duncan needed to find a better—suited outfit for the weather in Mirage.

Duncan dished out the food, and once they were finished, they headed towards the main Ravenwood area. Some of the newer students stared but older classmates dragged their attention away. It was a new school season, with fresh and known faces alike. It didn’t bother the trio as they headed into the heart of the living tree, Bartleby.

It was another door. This time, instead of stone outlining the door, branches and leaves decorated the curved top, giving more splendor and flourish. To Duncan’s (admittedly limited) knowledge, it was the only door to have such pompousness blatantly shown. From the shifting sands that make the Caravan area, the trio headed to the northwest, where the main city, Aggrobah was.

Once the last bits of bustle from the city and traders had died down within the Palace walls, the group could hear a commotion. Upon entering the room which house the voices, the point of the visit became clearer. The three “former” gang leaders of Aggrobah were arguing amongst themselves _and_ to the Sultana and Pirate lord.

The Pirate lord enjoyed the chaos while Sultana Sharzad look like she wanted to disappear. Duncan stepped in to save them by clearing his throat and making The Disciples’ presence known.

“I have Battle Diviner Gryphonbane and Battle Necromancer Dreadful to help. What might the issues be?” The clamor stopped for a moment, before starting up again with more vigor. In the end, Arthur and Penny went with the gang Leaders and Sharzad, while Duncan worked with the Pirate lord; Sky Captain Sindbad.

The two moved to a forgotten room, untouched by most in the palace. Sinbad seemed nervous. The Cat still made an impressive attempt at appearing confident and collected. The tail flicks and subtle ear twitches beneath the hat, however, gave it away. Done with the pointless wind—gathering, Duncan butted in.

“Captain Sinbad. Get to the point. You normally never request me or Ceren unless it was something important relating to them. What have you found that would require me or him?”

The small and swift tail flicks abruptly stopped. Sinbad gave a heavy sigh, shoulders obviously slumping.

“We found this in the shifting sands. The ones atop the Alkali Barrows. My crew and I suspect that there was more, but due to the timing and just how _scattered_ the items were” he trailed off, looking for words.

“We found these two things. None of us know how to use them, much less what they mean, but. But it’s best to have something better than nothing.”

The rustling of cloth and clinking of metal gave clues. The aura shined bright around one of the objects. The bright blue imbued into the impowered box. It was one of the only deck casings Tara had cherished for months. Pressed into his palm was an amulet. Another one of Tara’s babbles that she’d care for to no end. Her Dragonspyre Necromancy amulet. It was a small thing, no bigger than 2 inches in diameter, but the power it provided was astounding. He looked it over, feeling every bit.

The amulet held the finest amethyst jewels inlaid into the two larger Drake teeth that made up the primary casing for the black pearl. The two larger teeth also provided the main attachment to the chain itself, both made from gold and titanium respectively. Underneath the pearl was the two smaller drake teeth. The teeth were carefully slotted underneath the pearl and set beside the larger teeth, making an odd, but full, circle. Where the small teeth “touched” was melded together with more gold, forming a smaller clasp. The clasp held a small case made from Dumortierite, rare outside of Dragonspyre.

Carefully pinching the amulet between his thumb and forefinger, Duncan shock the amulet slightly. The bead of jade and peridot jangled as they slid around on the chain. The dumortierite was silent.

Finished with the examination, Duncan tried to speak, but was interrupted by a door slamming open. The movement of a skirt and huffing of a disgruntle Cat greeted the pair.

“You! I’ve been looking for you!” The cat hissed out. Duncan thought the tone was displeased, but he couldn’t tell.

“Hello Advisor. Is something amiss?” Duncan greeted him, carefully stowing away the items.

“Yes! The Council agreed.”

Whatever the council agreed upon shocked Sinbad into silence.

“Care to inform this mage about The Council and whatever they have agreed upon?”

The advisor startled, not realizing Duncan was present.

“I…yes.” The shorter cat pulled himself together before starting.

“The Pirate Lords” He began, give a _look_ to Sinbad. “Are a grouping of people throughout the Skyways that “rule” or “reign” a region. Sinbad is the main Pirate Lord of the Miragian Skyways. Some areas can have two or even three Lords, but those are far and few. The Council composes of all Current Lords, regardless of kingdom or region, though most only ever see the closest Lords. Every two years the Lords come together to elect a Pirate King. If one is elected, then Two primary outcomes happen: the King is well liked, and stays that way until their death, or the King is dethroned in a variety of ways depending on what the King has done to earn the Lords and people’s ire.

The King is also granted the title of Sky’s Ambassador and exempt from most of the pirate code. The title allows for any would—be pirate to escape from any Kingdom’s laws. There are drawbacks to this, and the King has to follow a set of rules.”

Duncan mulled over this information. The Advisor and Sinbad soon gave into quiet bickering, but he was lost in thought. Finally, Duncan gave a wry grin, showing a few teeth through the smile. The Cats stopped and flinched slightly, unaccustomed to seeing such a sharp smile from the mage. The two presumed it was anger or even aggression. Duncan was smiling for another reason altogether.

It seems that him escorting (being a glorified babysitter to) a noble lady from the capital of Marlybone to the outskirts would prove to be more fruitful than he originally intended. He couldn’t wait to meet this captain that became a King. And if his guess was correct, then a new tsunami of change and curveballs was on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so _long_ chapter but it's here! I had fun writing this and it came to me after posting the first chapter. Some of the more perspective people who've played Wizard101 shall notice that Duncan and generally most of the characters are totally different. This is because I have several things.  
>  **A.)** I like some of the plot points in Wiz101, but I wanted to give more character depth and reasoning, hence the total veering off the storyline path.  
>  **B.)** I actually haven't played in Mirage or the later worlds, so I'm just referencing the Wiz101 wiki (brilliant work those people do).
> 
>   
>  Last thought, this seemed _wayyy_ longer in Word than here.


	4. Chapter 3: Potential Scene

The aftermath of the chaos that occurred was finally settling down. In the newly rebuilt capital city of Valencia, did several groups reside. The Valencian people were moving back in and filling up previously abandoned jobs, the mages that helped to rebuild the city proffered their services to anyone willing (or listening), and the crew of the Captain also helped out. The group, officially called Sanguine Ravens, pitched in wherever they could, but to the mages and former Armadian leaders picked up on the underlying feelings.

Hesitation and fear for their captain.

The mages sympathized, after all; their leader was also missing. Nobody in the region, or skies, could figure out _why_ they went missing. Deacon sighed, taking a moment to reflect on the past.

The chaos the Pirate Captain stirred up was impressive, minimally speaking. She had almost single—handedly started and powered the main spell catalyst to rebuild their obliterated homeland. After she had awoken, many asked (yelled/shouted) about why she had done it _. It was simple_ , she smiled warmly. _I wanted to defeat my enemy, yet I knew there was a reason behind your actions. So, I figured out the reasons, and decided the best way to go about it. Defeating your enemy doesn’t necessarily mean killing them you know._ The ravenette’s eyes, however, told a different story. One with meanings mostly lost to himself and Kane, some named though. _Victory, pride, confidence_. Victory and pride over what, Deacon couldn’t name, but assumed it related to _something_.

Then the mages’ leader started berating the Pirate Captain.

It was an odd thing, to say the least. Deacon, Kane, the main crewmen of the Pirate’s group, and the other mages stared, bewildered. The argument made from the older, darker male, started off having a basis in a different language. It slowly devolved into growls and harsh hissing. The pirate seemed to follow along with whatever was being said, interjecting with her own dulled snapping snarls. It wrapped up shortly there—after, the hooded man giving a look of “we’ll talk later” to the Captain. She nodded and took a moment to find her wording. The golden—eyed teen then addressed the group and sent them on their way.

Peace talks, haggling, and political debates flared up, the lead mage soothing any tempers close to sparking. The captain, however, was nowhere to be seen. When asked, the mage, _Duncan_ , gave a knowing smile and explained that the captain (Tara) hated political topics and avoided them whenever she could. Then the conversation shifted to who would “claim” the captain as _theirs_. It was halted by the captain barging in, stating she’s neutral, and there’s a missive for the mage.

Deacon paused at that thought. A missive for mage Duncan. He remembered seeing the young adult pale at the seal, quietly swore, and then booked it. Tara had taken control of the room and swiftly tied up the meeting to be postponed. She didn’t try to be subtle which was unusual for her. That was the last time he, or anyone else for that matter, had heard or seen the two. The only reason why the Captain’s crew wasn’t in an uproar was because of a hastily—written note.

It had been 2 weeks since then.

Han Lan knew where his lotus—captain had gone. He also knew it was better to leave the rest worried in the unknown than to speak it aloud. The little lotus went through the door of worlds with their friend, booking after him. The oni carefully sharpened his swords, listening to the worried bickering of his fellow crewmates. The duo had traveled somewhere new, unknown to all, through the door.

He worried, but not for his lotus—captain. He worried for whoever had lit the lotus’ pyre of anger. Han knew the seal belonged to someone high—ranking, someone important. Someone out of his and the lotus’ reach. Tara, the one he followed, had pieced together something important, an image that was terrifying if the flash of fear and wildly sprinting around was to judge. The fear quickly turned into anger, _hate_. It marred her eyes and face. Scowling wasn’t pretty on the lotus’ face, but smoothed out into patience, eagerly awaiting a being’s demise.

He heard the little lotus’ shouts first. In his time of the skies, Han had never heard little Tara’s raise her voice. She was always soft—spoken, firm or tinged with annoyance at times, but always soft.

The muffled shrieks of indignation were new. He had only heard that once in the Ice cave in the Colden North.

Han went to “investigate”. He knew the little lotus had a temper hardly matched.

Tara wasn’t having a pleasant day. That crappy, _sicken—sweet_ , world just brought back unpleasant memories of areas closed behind carved keys of stone and wood. And then _he_ had to show up. Krampus and their entourage. She finally had it with everything.

She was currently shouting at Duncan with all the rage and venom she could muster up.

“You absolute _twit!_ What were you thinking!? Oh yeah, you **weren’t**. Honestly, next time you pull something so stupid again, grab Nolan, or hell! Get Malron and Ceren. I cannot believe this!” Tara was gesturing as she spoke, sending drops of caramel and other bits of broken possessed sweets every which way.

“But” Duncan tried weakly.

“Honestly! You might be a necromancer but that is no reason for seeking your death! Moron, idiot! I’m out of practice so next time your thinking about your demise in a Candyland world, plan ahead! Is that too much to ask!?”

“Your out of shape?”

“Yes! Do you honestly think the skyways are drenched in alabalu like the captials!?” She spun around, halting their walk.

“Besides, I haven’t done _any_ kind of magic since I lost my gear about two years ago. I’ve only just regained my mobility like, a year ago. And! The only reason I managed to pull off making this place is because I was _planning_ it, and doing it alone too. Now, why the hell did you run off into that godforsaken world **_without backup!?_** ”

Duncan stuttered for a moment, stunned at the information.

“The, I.” he took a breath. “The Head only allows for me to go alone in certain areas. None of the doors open if there’s someone with me. I’ve tried, but it never works.”

Tara also paused, mulled it over, and then let out several impressive swears in English. Tara noted the footsteps of various people, but she couldn’t care.

“That’s it! Your not leaving without some form of backup.” Tara started to say more but was cut off by her crew’s exclamations of happiness.

“Cap’n your back!”

“Captain!”

“Duncan!”

Han’s inquisitive rumble stopped the cheer to look at Tara. They realized she was coated in several varying golden liquids that were sticky to boot.

“Long story short, I hate that world. This twit here” she jerk her thumb towards Duncan, “—got turned into a present, we found the homeland of those Cookie Raiders that appear around Yule, and for the love of everything holy I want a shower. I’m thinking of heading to Aquilla, they have nice baths. You want to join?”

Some of crew shuttered at _Turned into a present_. It wasn’t fun being a festive box after all. The rest looked baffled at the statement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The word"alabalu" is a pseudo placement. Basically, what it means is "magic/aether" (in English) but sounds different in the Spiral because not many denizens are English speakers. 
> 
> When Duncan and Tara are... _talking_ both flitter through various languages and words they've picked up from venturing across the spiral. Not many actually hear what is being said if the duo don't know their being listened to. They can swap through linguistics pretty fast, though it does take a bit to swap back to a "common" language. (Tara is consider to be a Speaker of Pirates, and Duncan is a Speaker of Mages, as dubbed by the common people.)
> 
> Their conversation in growls/snarls/hissing is what the Draconian language sounds like. Both the Crew and The Disciples have minimal understanding of it, with only understanding singular common phrases/words. They are (currently) the only two who can fully speak it, as it requires access to Dragonspyre.


	5. Chapter 4: Thoughts from a Fox.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonnie reviews her history with one chaotic Captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by “ _and so the sky raised her instead_ ” by skyways_are_highways here on AO3!  
> Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495097
> 
> I thought it was such a cool premise having one of the longest-standing crewmates review their captain's behavior as they grow accustomed to the skies. I had fun writing this!

Bonnie wasn’t sure what to think when she saw Lord Avery’s newest “recruit”. They were dressed in shoddy, worn—out clothing that would be better off as rags. There was a goat monk working beside them, never saying anything more than necessary. After watching the two fight, she resigned herself to applying to the crew. She didn’t want to join another crew, not after what happened the last time.

But she joined anyway.

At first, Bonnie thought the newly appointed captain was skittish of them, of the power that the title held. She was wrong. Observing closer, Bonnie saw wariness, like the captain expected _everyone_ to ambush them. The captain also took everything with a grain of salt, as Avery said once. The promise of gold and glory didn’t appeal to them, if the minor crease and narrowed eyes said anything about the captain’s private thoughts as Avery prattled on about the famed Captain Gunn’s gold. Wordlessly, the captain accepted such a fruitless endeavor and motioned them to follow them out.

As Bonnie watched the captain lead them out, she realized that some things were amiss. When the band of misfits talked as the captain piloted the ship, small interjections came from them. _Shaniki_ and _Shanikian arts,_ the captain chided the crew. _Those who practice what is considered strange or magical practices and arts are given slanderous names. I will not have such slurs be spoken upon my ship_. The captain stayed upon the bow, guiding them from above, spinning the wheel occasionally and correcting the course.

Other things, Bonnie mused over, related to the crew themselves. There were days that the captain had assigned where the group could do _anything_. The captain asked them to try to stay out of getting in jail or over their heads, but that was about it. At the time, the group had hit a dead end for finding “Gunn’s” gold. Bonnie elected to stay behind, telling the others to go have fun and drinks without her. They shrugged and left her.

Shadowing the captain, Bonnie learned many things that day. The captain welcomed her out of her poor hiding spot and filled the air with knowledge. _Respect the ship, and it shall serve you well_. The voice of the captain, a girl’s pitch, held tones of understanding, of respect for the crumbling, sloppily made dingy. _That rope there needs to be replaced. Any more tension and it’ll snap. Can you buy sturdy rope here?_

Bonnie gave agreement and explained that the best belonged to the shipyard in Scrimshaw, pricy though. The captain bobbed her head and went onward inspecting the ship. _Where might brooms be? We should invest in a larger ship soon too. I’d rather not have mold and infection growing when it’s so easily preventable. On a different note, Miss Bonnie, do you have polish and cleaner for your clothing and weapons?_ Her confused look explained enough. She thought that stuff was for the nobles and people who flaunted stuff. The captain sighed, and lead her into the captain’s office.

_Look, I understand that most here don’t care or loathe those considered to be of a higher status._ She started off once the fox sharpshooter had settled in the baren room.

_Those who hate or despair such people never look past the glided, gleaming title of whatever. Most don’t realize that items, like weapons and clothing, need to be taken care of along with personal grooming in the sense of being clean. I learned a lot from Grizzleheim about such things, and I’ll be the worst Captain of the skies like everyone else if I don’t take care of my crew._

_Why?_ Bonnie asked, still lost in the words her leader had spoken.

_Because. Most don’t realize that a Crew makes a Ship. A Crew contains individuals like you and me, who have different wants and desires. I see how Avery’s treated his crew and look what it got him: A shark named Finn that keeps turning traitor. I don’t want that. I want a crew who knows that, at the very worst, can pull through with minimal losses, who can take advantage of anything that’s thrown their way._

_I’ve seen Marlybone, I’ve seen Mooshu, and I know that everyone who sails and dwells in these skies are considered scum and terrible slanderous names. I want a group to be proud of their accomplishments, to not let the words of the so—called “society” affect their mindset, their goals and dreams. And, to help perpetuate that mindset, having something “legally bought and owned” is the first step. Getting a proper ship with the proper and best equipment is the way to go. After that, I’ll see how training and unification throughout the crew goes._

What’s your name? Bonnie wondered still confused, but more understanding of the captain’s reasoning and actions.

_Name’s Morgan Hawkins. Most call me Nimble Morgan or Nimble Hawkins. Don’t really care either way._ Her eyes crinkled in the corner, showing off her happiness. The two undocked the ship and went to Scrimshaw to buy some rope.

Bonnie was never more thankful for the Captain’s insistence on changing the rope that day. After the two day break ended, Lord Avery was insistent on having some precious bobble delivered somewhere at _that_ specific moment. Hawkins warily accepted the proposal, lightly frowning at the skies. Bonnie made an inquiry as to why.

_There’s a saying from where I come from **. red skies at morning, sailor take warning. Red skies at night sailor’s delight**. The pressure has also changed and it’s been far warmer recently than before. I’d suggest nailing down anything you don’t want lost or mixed up. I’ll be double checking the Captain’s Cabin is locked before we set off._ The musketeer nodded at the cryptic warning, and did what was asked nevertheless. The other crew was put off, but followed Bonnie’s lead.

It was a storm. Those didn’t happen often in the skies, but when it did, it was costly. The rain battered the crew, lightning flashed in the background, alighting the storm, with thunder booming around them. Hawkins words resounded over the chaoticiness, commanding orders, unafraid and unyielding against the storm.

Slowly, over hours, the rain let up and the storm and the crew, soaking wet and battered beyond belief, were alive. Hawkins did a headcount and fell over in relief that everyone was accounted for.

After the Captain had turned in, the crewmem chattered with each other. When they asked, Bonnie explained the goal the Captain wanted to promote. Most agreed, only wary that this was some ruse by Hawkins.

That was rectified when they watched Hawkins verbally, viciously tear into Lord Avery for his actions when the group returned from finding the actual gold Captain Gunn once held and traded with himself.

Bonnie noticed something else after witnessing the event. More ships around took notice of the group and were provoking them more often. Hawkins kept scowling at the words of “El Dorado” and finally having enough, proceeded to grill Lord Avery for details. Hawkins deadly scowl matched with a glare to pierce the heavens themselves, spoke volumes of what _she_ thought about the idea. (The rest of the crew were swept up in wonderlust.)

Then it was Milo. The young Warf Rat had ended up in jail again, this time in the Prestigio (TK). Milo also confirmed the fox’s thoughts; it was another kit of Milo’s old crew. Hawkins was surprised that the taller, leaner figure knew about siblings and her parents.

(Both of them slipped away to plan for any outcome to prevent what happened once the Captain was done signing the ‘Rat in.)

The ventures blurred together. The main distinction was the Captain’s and crew’s, growth. No longer did the Captain wear tattered rags, poorly stitched together, but finely mended fabrics of various colors, somewhat worn. The crew’s numbers grew, and with it, practicing and training.

The Captain taught those who thrived in the night navigation via starlight, look—outs, mending and strengthening, and other tasks during the night. Hawkins taught the entire crew how to polish and sharpen blades, starting off in broad daylight and shifting towards the night until everyone could do it blinded. There was also war games and strategy, tactical fights paired against many or few. Hawkins taught them how to pick locks, how to be silent and leave no trails if anyone was ever alone and in need of time or awaiting help.

(The Crew’s respect grew as their beloved captain defended each and every one of them, Bonnie realized one day. It also helped that the Captain had managed to beat all of them when challenged to a duel, friendly or for proof. Once those where over, Bonnie watched how the Captain mimicked her opponent’s stance and showed off their flaws and strengths.)

It made the fox mull over how heartbreaking it was when their beloved captain Hawkins fell in battle, few though it was. The small frame that housed the fiery spirit crumpling under the weight of _too_ _much_ sent the crew into a panic. Even though she was never dead, just seeing the seemingly dead body of her friend sent Bonnie (and the rest) into a frenzy of fury and protectiveness.

(The crew manage to get hints of a story much more saddening when they got the Captain deep into an expensive tavern’s cups. The Captain explained that she mimicked looking dead because nobody cares about a corpse amongst her bitter tale of understanding of warfare and the aftermath it has on the people.

Once the Captain awoke the next day, having a hangover, made light inquiries about what happened the night before. None felt like telling the truth and bringing more hurt to the captain, so they explained they held a drinking game and Hawkins came in 2nd, outmatched by Ratbeard. She accepted the lie.)

Bonnie was broken from her thoughts when Hawkins sharp, bubbly laugh rang out. The mage, Duncan, was playfully prodding and punching Tara, muttering words in a foreign tongue. Bonnie gave a smile as she watched the interaction.

She would gladly help this captain and wouldn’t trade for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shaniki and Shanikian Arts are terms I've made up. I know that "witchdoctor" in real life means something completely different than what most "mainstream" media portrays it as, so I wanted to come up with an "offical name" for the spooky scary art of magic that Pirate101 offers. 
> 
> A Shaniki is the mage title/name/Practitioner of the Spiritual Arts. Shanikian Arts is what a Shaniki preforms.


	6. Not a Chapter... For now!

Alright, I know it's been a small bit of time since I've last uploaded. Main reason for that; enjoying freedom from schoolwork and completing homework. Now that I'm swamped with free time, I've been spending time in wizard101 (and pirate101) and working on the main stories so I can write about it. Currently, I’ve completed Celestia in Wizard101 and working on Zafaria, as the W101 worlds will tie into Tara’s reaction and knowledge base in P101’s storylines.

**However!**

I’m not adverse to writing snippets and other bits of the story that I’m working on. Main issue is; I’m not sure where I want to go from here. I have all the time in the world to do _something_ and there’s many things to work on and flesh out, but I’m not sure what to write currently. Opinions in the comments any ideas you have (no matter how dumb/weird/far—fetched/etc. you think it is) is welcome. All I ask is to keep it fairly moderated, as this is mean to be an overall PG—teen based story, so nothing too “mature”.

Rainbowthefox, thank you for leaving Kudos! Glad you've enjoyed my writing.

Thanks for reading!

Roxas Munchkin.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General miscellaneous ideas I had on Jan. 11th.

Misc. Facts 

Tara and Co. fight fair. This is one of the reasons why she’s considered honorable, as she can easily come in and make an entire fight easy when pulling all the punches. When inquired about her holding back, She responds with “because, I have honor to fight within the common rules. Fighting dirty makes it easy, yes, but in the long run, you lose esteem, honor, reputation. And for what? Having an easy win?”

One of the few times Tara goes all out is with here 1v1 duel with Sandy (Mooshu) and a friendly duel with Duncan (Valencia). Both allies and potential foes realize how _deadly_ she can be when done with everything.

Like the skyways, Mages have a high mortality rate. The usual causes is due to experimentation, over/under loading the body with Aether, or some form of war. Humans have a higher mortality rate than most races (with some exceptions) because their often seen as “weaker” or less important than whichever species is hiring them. As such, both the Great Mage Dragonflower and Duncan Grimwater are seen akin to living legends. One for being such an exceptional spellcaster _and_ uniting so many worlds, the other being a well—known master of his field and living so long (He’s roughly 26—27) as most human mages die around the 12—18 age range.

The skies have a high mortality rate. Structural damage either in—town or on board, in the skies, plagues in retribution from Shanikian spells, and the Armada, doesn’t matter. Overall the average lifespan of a denizen of the Skies is usually 30 years, mainly less. Most of Tara’s crew is around the 26+ age range, hence why their a bit wary of following someone so young _and_ being gathered together. Like Mages within Capital cities, Human especially have a higher—than—average death rate. After hitting the 20—30’s most immediately take root somewhere so that fewer things (from travelling abroad) can kill them. Granted, their still the first to be drafted into militaria positions in wartime, though that is slowing down.

Valencia is home to the unicorns/horse races. Unicorns, being rarer then ‘normal’ horses, slowly became the main figurehead of the ruling and nobility classes. Both types of horses are fantastic all—rounders and able to cast magic with minimal learnings. While most of the populous in Valencia wished to become more like their Mooshuian and Marlybonian counterparts, some wanted to retain their ancestral ways. This lead into the group slowly becoming the Amber Hoard while the rest advanced.

Both Diego Santiago Quariquez Ramirez III and Benedict Glendemming are ‘natives’ of Valencia, having been born there. Diego’s older brother, Roberto Esmerelda Santa Elonar Ramirez, was a tween when the Siege of the Capital occurred. They are officially considered twins in Valencia, even though there is a several month gap between them. Roberto never shares what truly happened at the Siege, but has been against Diego’s blind faith in following Ravenwood’s headmaster.

Facts/backstory on Dueling Diego’s “imfamous” brother.

Roberto Esmerelda Santa Elonar Ramirez II is the eldest and main surviving heir to the Ramirez family, a wealthy and powerful line hailing from Valencia. He is scorned by his younger brother (by 10.5 months), and only remaining family, Diego Santiago Quariquez Ramirez III. As per Valencia tradition, firstborns are named after the Matriarchal line, then the Patriarchal. When the ruling body/government is restored to the Valencian homeland, Roberto holds sway in what seems to be a poisonous court. (The court is entirely ruthless in the presence of outsiders, but kind and simple to insiders)

Both children did swear an oath to both parents, Esmeralda and Santiago, though Diego doesn’t fully remember it. (He was later told by Roberto before their relationship went sour)

Tara wasn’t the one to retrive Diego’s grandma ma’s lucky unicorn shoe (Atoll was), but it is attributed to her as such.

Roberto is a canny merchant who uses the skyways and hidden avenues to conduct business.

Before the Armada being “torn apart”, Roberto was one of the few lucky people able to peddle Valencian wears.

Roberto does recognize Tara (from afar) as The Great Mage Dragonflower, and as one of Jolene’s children. This makes him the Third person who knows Jolene Dragon, daughter of the House of the Rising Dragon, has had kids. Milo and Bonnie were first and second.

Roberto has the uncommon passive skill of being able to see through most glamours, regardless of self—casted, helped out by others, or “cursed” (maliciously spelled). He can also feel the power of glamours, which makes Tara catch his attention in the first place.

The main reason Roberto’s relation with Diego is soured is because a bunch of little things a few larger key events. The main events attributed to it is the Siege of the Capital (one of the few who are still alive and knowledgeable about the leader of such a strike), Diego blindly following the words of the Newly Instilled Headmaster, Merle Ambrose, and the last one, ‘earning’ the dueling master insignia, appointing Diego as an official Dueling Master.

Roberto is the main person to truthfully/honestly teach Tara about mercantile in the skies. He makes no comment on her ‘fall’ as The Great Mage Dragonflower, understanding her bitter, scornful expression when hinting towards Headmaster Ambrose and his brother.

The house of the Rising Dragon is an older Pirating family of renown, like the Beard’s or Fowl’s. The main mark of the Rising Dragon is how it’s primarily populated by humans, though not without minorities. The most notable of the House of the Rising Dragon, or lack thereof, is Tara’s mother, Jolene. Originally, Jolene was to be the next Head, but was scorned from that position when she eloped with Alistair Drake. Jolene did attempt to become a pirate lord, and later king, but never got that far. She _did_ , however, managed to find and map, a way to Eldorado. With some common sense imparted from Drake, the two managed to bring back a sizable amount of money, but not enough to fully flood the market. Anyone who asked would get wildly spun stories ranging from random pot—breaking to casino luck.

While Alistair cannot personally claim Head Of The House of the Rising Dragon, his children can. The rules have it so that anyone can try, through blood relation of course. In order to be the Head Of The House of the Rising Dragon family, one must be suitable to the tasks and run several successful ventures beforehand. While Saffron isn’t of age, or capability, yet, Terrence and Tara are.

This what prompts Jasmine to urge Alistair and their family to the skies in the first place. Terrence had managed to run three different company ventures (goals with amazing profits) successfully before them “going on vacation”.

Tara has run many ventures successfully and can also apply to the position. However, at the moment, she’s a bit dispositioned with running several _other_ things and not making the “known world” collapse into chaos and warfare. When she ferries the family to the House of the Rising Dragon and stays there for a bit, the others finally realize that _oh hey, this is the lost…heir… fuck._ And then get their asses handed to them again. (Han Lan and Sun Wukong have learned their lesson thank you.)

(The crew mutually agree not to talk about Tara’s previous profession that led to the Great Mage Dragonflower bit…when she’s around. Newly rebuilt Valencia proper and diminished Armada comrades also like to listen in and gossip about the Captain’s rise to fame and speculate what cause her fall. No one’s quite sure what her reaction is when asked to her face, and are afraid of a _negative_ reaction, putting it mildly.

Tara knows full well that these talks are happening and doesn’t mind much, after all it’s better than them trying to stab her or cause even _more_ chaos. When Sun Wu is “elected” to ask her, all she does is raise her eyebrows in amusement and responses with “what _would_ you like to know?” and he nopes right outa there because _holy crap she’s scary_. She also notices the scrying crystals and them watching her, but never comments. Duncan is the one to bring it up when the duo is in private off—time quarters (for ultimate bantering purposes).)


End file.
